


Wild Violets

by ericsonclan



Series: OG World [50]
Category: The Walking Dead (Telltale Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ericsonclan/pseuds/ericsonclan
Summary: Clementine and Prisha go fishing and get to know each other a bit better. While there, Prisha finds something she thinks would make a nice git.
Relationships: Clementine/Louis (Walking Dead: Done Running), Prisha/Violet (Walking Dead: Done Running)
Series: OG World [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1815361
Kudos: 5





	Wild Violets

**Author's Note:**

> (by Laura)

“You ready?” Clementine’s voice broke Prisha out of her thoughts. “We can take another minute if you’d like,”

“Oh, no, I’m ready now,” Prisha said, rising to her feet.

“Alright then. The fishing shack is only a short walk away,” Clementine motioned and Prisha followed. The girls slipped out of Ericson’s gate, the door closing behind them with a clang.

“Bye, Clem! Bye, Prisha!” AJ called from the guard tower, waving enthusiastically. The girls returned the gesture, a warm smile crossing Clementine’s face. Prisha noticed Willy scrambling up to join AJ on the tower. He also joined in the waving, his snaggle-toothed smile bringing a grin of her own to Prisha’s face. Ever since she’d been up and about more Willy had been tailing her, peppering her with questions about the outside world and letting her know every little nook and cranny of Ericson. She truly appreciated his warmth and candor.

As the girls continued on, Prisha dropped her hand, leading her eyes to wander to her other arm, now simply a useless extension that lay limp against her side. She was thankful that the crippling pain of the first few weeks had diminished, but to be left with nothing but good for nothing dead weight on her left side was still a hard truth to accept.

Clementine seemed to notice Prisha’s pensive demeanor. “It took me a while to get used to as well. It’s strange to miss something you’d always taken for granted, especially something as crucial as a limb,”

Prisha glanced down at Clementine’s own prosthetic. It was hidden within a boot and underneath her pant leg, but Prisha remembered the moment Clementine had revealed it to her. To think that she was clueless to Clementine’s condition until Clementine divulged the truth to her… it gave Prisha some hope that she could mask her own injury as well. Her abilities would never be the same, but that didn’t mean she was forced to reveal her new weakness to strangers. After being invited to stay at Ericson though, it seemed she wouldn’t have to worry about crossing paths with outsiders often. It was a strange thought for her.

They reached the cabin. Clementine held open the door for Prisha to walk through. Once inside, Prisha immediately spotted the fishing spears. It seemed the cabin was only used for their storage. She wondered if it could serve some greater purpose with some sprucing up. Grabbing a spear, Prisha handed it to Clementine before taking one of her own. The girls walked out and took their places along the stream’s side, balancing on the rocks while trying to keep a keen eye out for fish. Prisha observed Clementine’s stance, trying to mimic it while compensating for her lack of support on her left side. She wasn’t sure how many fish she would catch, but she’d try her best.

Clementine stabbed the water deftly, pulling back to reveal a struggling fish on the end of her spear. With a proud smile, she plopped her catch within the bucket. “There’s one,”

“You’re quite good at this,”

Clementine shrugged. “I’ve had plenty of practice. There’s only so many ways to hunt in these woods so I fish nearly every day. It beats scavenging though. There’s not a day that goes by that I’m not thankful to no longer be scouring empty shelves for an expired can of beans,”

Prisha nodded. “On the road that can would be a blessing, but here with fresh food and herbs and a fire pit that’s always lit… the food here’s far superior than anything I’ve had in my travels,”

“Where did you start out originally?” Clementine dropped another fish in the bucket, her expression curious.

Prisha jabbed at the water eagerly and let out a sigh of frustration as she missed. These fish were slippery creatures. “I grew up in Chicago. Headed out of there pretty quickly though. Cities were the first to fall after all. The risks outweighed the rewards,”

“Who were you with? Your family?”

Prisha could tell from Clementine’s tone that the question was open-ended. Talking about the past was always a delicate subject and approached with caution. Prisha wanted to be open though. She owed the Ericson kids too much to stay silent.

“No, I was with my class. My junior high teacher Mrs. Powell and the music teacher Mr. Gibson were with us as well. There were twenty-three kids in my class the day we fled. Not for long though. How about you?”

“My parents were away on a trip when it all started. A man named Lee found me hiding up in my treehouse.” Clementine rested her spear against the rock she stood on. “I probably would have starved up there if it wasn’t for him,”

Prisha nodded thoughtfully. “We all needed someone to protect us in those early days if we were to stand any hope of surviving. The amount of children I saw abandoned in those first months was terrifying. In the first few weeks when everyone thought this would blow over those kids would be taken in and nurtured by groups, but once it was clear that no help was coming…” she paused, her spear hovering in midair. “We took in other children a few times once our own numbers had thinned. After being looted and targeted for our trouble we stopped though,”

Clementine’s expression was somber. It was clear she’d also experienced the sad truth of knowing kindness often carried punishment in this new world. “Considering we didn’t find you with others your age, I assume they didn’t make it? Or were you separated?”

“The former. There were some of us that made it for quite some time. But I’m the last,” Prisha’s eyes looked up towards the path to Ericson. “Willy mentioned there used to be over forty children here? There aren’t nearly as many now, but still, it’s impressive how many have survived,”

“They’re fighters, each and every one of them,” Clementine’s smile showed her pride in them. “It seems like you’re fitting right in too. Willy’s certainly grown fond of you,”

Prisha’s eyes brightened. “He’s a wonderful boy. So bright, so enthusiastic. It’s been a long time since I met anyone with so much life in them, a passion for life beyond day-to-day survival,” She was silent for a moment, then thrust her spear into the stream. This time she was met with success; a respectably sized fish flopping on the end of her spear. As she placed it into the bucket, Prisha watched Clementine for a second, wondering if she should share further. If this was truly her new home, she might as well bare it all, right? “Willy’s about the same age my own brother would’ve been had he survived,”

Clementine’s eyes widened. “You had siblings?”

“Just the one. His name was Sanjay. He was in preschool back then. I never saw him to know for sure, but if my entire class of 13-14 year olds died…” Prisha shook her head. “I don’t want to think of what became of the nurseries,”

The grip on Clementine’s spear tightened. Prisha flinched, wondering if she’d spoken rashly. “Did you have siblings, Clementine?”

Clementine shook her head. “No. I’m sorry, my thoughts just went somewhere else for a second,” She made an attempt at a particularly swift fish, cursing under her breath as she missed it. “In my years out on the road, I met people that saw their loved ones die and people who never found them. I can’t tell you which is worse,”

“Everyone’s traversed their own personal hell. Trying to qualify pain became meaningless long before anyone could accept that fact,” Prisha could feel herself tiring out. Mentally scolding herself for her own shortcomings, she paused for a moment, trying to calm her breathing. It was then that her eyes alighted on a splotch of purple near the bridge they’d crossed to reach the shack. “Excuse me,” she murmured, stepping down from the boulder she stood on to investigate further. As she approached, she saw that her suspicions had been correct: it was a patch of wild violets. Prisha knelt to observe them more closely. Placing down her spear, she reached out to touch the purple petals.

“Everything alright over there?” Clementine called.

“Yes, just a minute!” Prisha’s eyes returned to the flowers. They of course were reminding her of the Ericson girl who bore the same name. From what Louis had told her, Violet didn’t actually like the color purple, but perhaps a gift with her namesake would still be meaningful? She wanted to thank Violet for that night she’d dropped by and helped braid her hair. Looking back, Prisha recognized her own despair had been deeper than she realized at the time. That moment of human connection with Violet had meant more to her than words could say. She’d tried to thank her since then, but Violet had continued to be aloof and skittish round her. Prisha understood her wariness: there was every reason to be suspicious of her as a stranger. Still, she hoped she’d be able to earn Violet’s trust someday. There was a tenderness in her actions that night that had stayed with Prisha.

Picking up her spear once more, Prisha began digging round the patch of violets, trying to get enough depth to successfully excavate them, roots and all. It took some finagling, but she was able to pull the bunch up with a pile of delicate roots still connected. Trying to balance the flowers and spear within her one hand, Prisha hurried over to the fishing shack in search of a proper vessel. Anything would do as long as it could hold some dirt and water to keep the blooms alive. Scanning the room and the assorted paraphernalia within, Prisha quickly discovered something sufficient: an old, corroded can.

Prisha tried to pick it up, swore angrily as the violets almost slipped, then slammed the spear onto the table in order to free her hand for the task at hand. Quickly realizing she’d need more dirt, she hurried back outside with the can and flowers in tow, the spear haphazardly tucked underneath her armpit. She was sure Clementine was wondering what was taking so long. She’d have to hurry. Digging round the excavated area, Prisha gathered a pile of dirt to fill the basin of the can before tucking the violets on top, delicately pressing the roots back into the tilled soil. With that done, she set the can by the bridge and returned to her task. She could pick them up on their way back to the school.

They kept at their fishing for a couple hours, long enough that they were able to bring back a respectable haul before sundown. Prisha and Clementine each carried a bucket of fish back, the can of violets resting precariously on the edge of Prisha’s pile of fish. Dropping the pails off by the fire pit, Clementine and Prisha found themselves free until dinnertime. Before they could head anywhere, Louis was already hurrying over, wrapping his arms around Clementine and placing a quick kiss upon her cheek. “You’re back! You guys took forever today!”

“There were plenty of fish. We had to keep catching them,” Clementine responded, smiling up at Louis. “How was hunting?”

“Our pickings were slim, unfortunately. Aasim blamed me. Said all my talking was scaring away the rabbits. I thought that was only a problem with fish, but what do I know?”

“Looks like it’ll be fish stew tonight then,” Clementine looked toward Prisha. “Have any plans before dinner?”

Prisha shook her head, the can containing the violets lightly tucked behind her back. Clementine had seen it and kept silent, but she had a feeling Louis would pester her if he caught sight of them. “I’ll probably try to wash up a bit, but that’s all. Dinner shouldn’t be long,”

“Ruby keeps a bucket for handwashing over by the admin building,” Clementine offered, pointing in its direction though Prisha already knew the way. “She’ll be glad to see somebody’s putting it to good use,”

“Hey, I have good hygiene!” Louis protested.

Clementine raised an eyebrow. “Do you wash your hands before meals?”

“…Sometimes,”

“Then you’re still uncivilized in Ruby’s book. But it’s alright,” Clementine slipped her hand into Louis’. “We can be uncivilized together,” The two wandered off together, a silent goodbye exchanged between them and Prisha before they went their separate ways.

Prisha looked round the schoolgrounds. She wondered where Violet was. She wasn’t one to stay inside, so she had to be somewhere out here. Perhaps if she walked the perimeter, she’d find her. Prisha set out, can of violets in hand, wondering what exactly she’d say upon finding her. It only took a few minutes to spot Violet. She was perched atop the school walls, looking out beyond them. Prisha was somewhat surprised that Violet was able to scale such a height considering her injuries, but from what she’d heard the loss of eyesight had been recent. Much of the climbing must be muscle memory to Violet. “Evening, Violet,”

Violet turned in surprise at the words, squinting slightly before her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, hey, Prisha. Didn’t expect you back yet,”

“Clementine and I got a full haul, so we decided to head back. I bet we can even dry out some of the fish for use later on,”

“That’s great,”

There was an awkward silence between them, neither of them sure how to continue.

“I found something while I was out there,” Prisha finally began. “I wanted to give it as a thank you for helping me with my hair the other night. I can leave it here on the ground though if you’re busy,”

“No, I’m not. Just- one sec,” Violet turned her back to Prisha, shimmying down the wall at an impressive speed. She turned and walked forward, trying to make out what the object in Prisha’s hand was. It wasn’t till she stood before her that her damaged eyesight could make it out.

“They’re violets,” Prisha said lamely, already knowing the explanation was unnecessary. “I heard that you don’t like purple, but-”

“Who told you that?”

“What? Oh, Louis mentioned it. He likes to talk about you a lot. Anyways, even though it may not be your favorite color I thought it still might be a nice keepsake. I dug them up by the roots and put plenty of soil with them so they could stay alive,” Prisha stretched out her hand, offering Violet the can.

Violet took it slowly, turning it back and forth in her hands. The smallest smile tugged at the corners of her lips. Prisha felt her spirits rise at the sight. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that,” Her eyes stayed latched on the flowers. One was milky with damage, but both still carried the same light green tone. They looked like sea glass to Prisha.

“I wanted to give something, even if it’s just a token gesture. I really enjoyed our talk that night. It helped distract me from a melancholy moment, gave me some perspective,”

Violet shrugged. “Glad I could help, I guess,” Her eyes looked up for a second into Prisha’s before quickly turning away.

“Food’s ready! Get it before it’s cold!” Omar’s voice carried across the yard.

“Shit,” Violet muttered. “I’m gonna run put this away. Thanks again,” With that she was gone, hurrying towards the dorm rooms without another word.

Prisha’s eyes followed her, watching as she made her way inside. She liked Violet’s smile. It was the sort that didn’t come out for just anything. She hoped she could see it again. Glancing down at her hand, Prisha internally groaned at the sight of all the dirt wedged underneath her fingernails. She’d have to wash it before getting dinner otherwise Louis and Clementine would know that she’d lied. Walking swiftly, she headed over to that bucket Clementine had mentioned. Omar would probably glare at her for being late, but she couldn’t risk the dirt drawing attention her way.

Rubbing her fingers together briskly, Prisha smiled at the rivulets of dirt water running down her skin. Her greatest worry was getting clean before dinnertime; what a blissfully normal problem to have. Quickly wiping her hand on her side, Prisha rose and looked toward the supper table where most everyone had already gathered. Willy caught her gaze, waving excitedly for her to join them. Prisha couldn’t help but smile. Ericson really was starting to feel like home.


End file.
